


Sweet on You

by anon7912



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: 10k words of Juyeon having a crush on Hyunjae, Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee Shop AU Except Make it Bingsu, Drabble, Fluff, Lee Juyeon (The Boyz) is Whipped, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25069999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon7912/pseuds/anon7912
Summary: Really, Juyeon objectively knows he shouldn’t be eating something he’s allergic to, but he’ll do anything to make the cute bingsu server flash him his spring sunshine smile.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin, Ji Changmin | Q/Kim Younghoon, Lee Jaehyun | Hyunjae/Lee Juyeon
Comments: 74
Kudos: 358





	Sweet on You

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently every new one shot I write gets softer than the last, so please enjoy this pure, shamelessly self-indulgent fluff that unfurled across my keyboard faster than I could keep up. 
> 
> Also I did no medical research before writing this so please don’t actually eat stuff you’re allergic to even if it’s to impress someone as cute as Hyunjae.

The first time Juyeon willingly eats strawberries as an adult who is very allergic to said fruit, he is barely able to comprehend what he’s about to do, only knows that he must do it, that it’s inevitable the way the sun has to rise in the East or the way winter must collapse into spring.

It’s a blisteringly hot summer’s day, the first weekend since the start of the semester, and Juyeon is eager to be back on his university campus. Even though, like all college-age students, he loves summer breaks, after the first couple of weeks of lazing around, he immediately begins to miss the hustle and bustle of schoolwork and campus life. The school gym is also far nicer than the one by his childhood home, so being the gym-rat his friends all teasingly call him, it’s great to see the sparklingly clean room and state-of-the-art equipment after making do with two dumbbells and an old treadmill for two months.

He’s walking back to his flat after a very rewarding, gruellingly hard workout when he comes upon a new fixture on the familiar street. It’s a sweet little bingsu shop, decorated in bright colours and bubbly lettering, and the slightly ajar door lets out cool air-conditioned gusts onto the sidewalk. It’s clearly still in the process of setting up, with a couple of workmen painting one of the shelves in an endearing lemon yellow, but there are a few other patrons already sitting in, and the little wooden sign on the door says ‘Come in!’ so Juyeon does. He loves bingsu and because the summer heat is aggressively beating down on him, he doesn’t let himself do the usual dance of _oh how many calories is this, ah should I have a cheat day_ , he just walks right in.

There’s no one at the counter yet, but he can hear rustling in the back room that’s hidden by a curtain printed with cartoon cows, so Juyeon takes a moment to look around and read the menu. It’s clearly a makeshift one — the handwriting on the rustic black chalkboard is rather appalling, but there’s something quite enchanting about the chicken scratch that makes Juyeon smile to himself. He’s still trying to decipher the flavour options when a pleasant voice chirps in front of him.

“Hi, welcome to Milky Way Desserts! What can I get for you today?”

Juyeon looks up, a polite smile already on his face when he freezes. It’s almost as if a K-drama original soundtrack starts playing in the background with the way the soft breeze of the air-conditioner passes through the guy behind the counter’s blonde hair, and Juyeon mentally berates himself to stop watching romantic comedies because this level of sappiness is honestly sort of absurd.

His brain short circuits between trying to figure out what to focus on — how unacceptably good-looking the server is with his fluffy blonde hair and big warm eyes or how sweaty and disgusting he himself must look after the gym. Juyeon settles on the slightly more pleasant option, and he lets himself take a split second to soak in the way the guy’s rosy pink lips and pale skin look delightfully similar to summer berries and cream.

He means to say something charming or funny, really he does, and he’d probably even settle for basic decorum what with his history of social ineptitude, but instead what comes out is, “I don’t know, I can’t read the caveman scribble on the blackboard.” At least when he strangles himself to death later for making the cute bingsu server’s eyes widen in surprise, he’ll allow himself the small caveat that his voice luckily lilts upwards in a teasing manner. Still, for now, he’s fucking mortified at how rude he sounded, and he immediately sputters out, “Wait sorry, that was a joke, I’m an asshole-”

His self deprecation is cut short when the blonde guy laughs. For how pretty he is, Juyeon would’ve expected an airy, light laugh that floats as delicately as the golden strands of the server’s hair do under the man-made breeze, but to his surprise and delight, the guy’s laughter is loud and boisterous, almost a cackle, as if every ounce of air in his lungs is expended in amusement.

“Rude, I copied that off of Pinterest,” he sniffs disdainfully, although his dark brown eyes are dancing with mirth. “Do you actually want a recommendation or are you just being a little shit?”

Juyeon’s eyebrows raise at the coarse language, but he can’t help the grin that stretches across his face even as he blushes from the bantering. The boy is a delightful contradiction — all soft features and hard edges. “A recommendation please,” he mumbles, feeling a hot flush that has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the way the server’s white teeth flash under the warm shop light _(can you not gay panic for like two seconds dude get it together)_.

The server makes a show of narrowing his eyes while he scoops the bingsu base and looking Juyeon up and down, and Juyeon honestly feels like he should just blow dodge then and there to escape the calculating gaze. He feels like he’s being dissected cell by cell, and that can’t possibly be good for his weak, gay heart. Just when he’s about to call it quits and scarper, the server smiles and moves towards a yellow tub of fruit, saying, “You look like you could be a mango kind of guy-”

“Great, sounds fantastic,” Juyeon blurts out immediately, thankful for the out.

“But my favourite is strawberry,” the blonde finishes as he starts scooping syrupy ladles of mango. There’s a sweet hopefulness in his eyes that makes Juyeon’s tongue feel like a lead weight in his mouth, and damn it he clearly wants Juyeon to pick his favourite flavour too so exactly how is Juyeon going to get out of this one? Logically, Juyeon knows that he has no obligation to this handsome stranger to pick strawberry, because that’s genuinely ridiculous especially given that he’s actually very allergic to the fruit, but the small romantic part of his brain that should just shut the fuck up already says, “ _Pick strawberry and then you and cute-server-boy can ride off into the rainbow on a mint vespa_.”

A weird strangled sound comes out of Juyeon’s throat as he searches for an out, and mercifully, his eyes fall upon a small glittery sign that says “Cash only (for now!)”. He heaves an audible sigh of relief, and breathes out, “Ah I only have enough cash for one topping and since you’ve already prepared the mango…” The server smiles and shrugs as if in consolation.

“I’ll have Jacob ring you up while I finish this,” he says, eyes crinkling. He turns his head, and in a shockingly loud voice, screeches, “Cobie!” It makes Juyeon and the other patrons in the shop jump, but the guy seems blissfully unaware because he grins again at Juyeon before shuffling off to the other toppings station. A tan boy with a sweet smile comes up to the counter, and he processes Juyeon’s payment quickly, although Juyeon can’t help but feel like he’s being eyed up and down when he pulls the money out of his wallet.

As he’s standing by the pick-up counter, Juyeon lets his eyes wander over the shop. It’s decorated cosily with big squashy chairs and homey looking tables, and he even sees a small stack of board games displayed neatly on one of the already painted shelves. The sign above it says, “No sticky fingers allowed! (Literally and theft-wise)” and Juyeon can’t help the small chuckle that slips past his lips.

“One mango bingsu!” a voice calls, distracting him from his inspection. Juyeon turns, ready with a smile to take the dessert, but he stops short when he sees a much larger cup than the one he had ordered. There, nestled under pillows of whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles, are two scoops of bingsu, one covered with mango and the other with bright, glazed strawberries.

Juyeon looks around the shop, expecting someone else to slip in front of him to take their order but the blonde behind the counter simply calls again, laughter in his voice, “One mango bingsu for the cute guy in the grey tank.”

Juyeon starts and stares at the server. _He’s_ wearing a grey tank. In his surprise, Juyeon almost points to himself questioningly before the blonde nods with a cheeky grin tugging at the corner’s of his very pink mouth, so he takes the cup with a vacant look. He’s so baffled by the sight of the strawberries that he barely even registers the way the pads of the guy’s soft fingertips feel on his knuckles when they brush up against one another. Juyeon looks, nonplussed, at the cup for a moment, then opens his mouth to ask rather dumbly, “Uh, wha-”

The adorable boy behind the counter just winks - _oh for fuck’s sake that wink should be illegal_ \- and says teasingly, “It’s on the house.” There’s a terrifying moment when Juyeon contemplates if he’s really committed to what he’s about to do, but one glance at the charmingly sanguine shine in the server’s eyes makes every cost-benefit calculus fall away comically fast, and Juyeon can only hope that his grimace even remotely resembles a smile as he shoves the spoonful of berry covered shaved ice in his mouth, already feeling the telltale signs of hives breaking up and down his back. 

To clarify, Juyeon is _really_ quite allergic to strawberries.

Unfortunately, Juyeon is also pretty gay, so this is how, sputtering with surprise, Juyeon finds himself (for the first but certainly not the last time) valiantly shoving mounds of strawberry into his mouth, all for the viewing pleasure of the handsome blonde leaning on the counter. He chews quickly, as if minimising the amount of time the berry spends on his tongue will make any difference and swallows with a choked “Mm”. The blonde beams at him, and for a moment, Juyeon thinks all the uncomfortable rashes and hives will be worth it just to have received that smile but _Christ that’s pathetic._

“D’you like it?” the server asks, leaning over the counter on his elbows to gaze happily at Juyeon.

“It’s incredible,” he nods, and _fuck him_ because why is his arm automatically going to take another scoop, but oh there it is, that’s another spoonful of strawberry in his mouth. The only thing that keeps him from staying in the shop to effectively let the cute bingsu boy watch him eat the entire dessert is the knowledge that in around five minutes, Juyeon is going to turn into a red welt-covered balloon person if he doesn’t get home now and take his medicine.

As such, after he swallows, Juyeon coughs out an awkward, “Gotta go write a paper,” before dashing promptly out of the shop, desperately fighting the urge to shove his fingers down his throat to throw up the strawberries. 

“See ya!” comes the jaunty voice from behind him, and he’s definitely not imagining the clear laughter he hears as the door to the shop swings shut in his wake.

He makes it home in record time, the bingsu having barely melted when he steps into his small flat. His roommate, Younghoon, is lounging on the sofa with his long limbs draped over every inch of the worn leather.

“Hey Juyeonie,” he greets, not looking up from his phone. “How was-”

“Not now hyung,” Juyeon manages to get out as he runs to the bathroom, loudly knocking old painkiller bottles over in his haste to get his antihistamine.

“Woah, where’s the fire?” Younghoon asks as he ambles down the corridor behind Juyeon, and he’s saved from having to reply because he finds his medicine then and quickly shoves two pills down his throat. It’s probably a placebo effect, but Juyeon immediately feels the hives receding down his shoulder blades and disappearing under his skin as he slumps over the sink in relief.

“Are you taking antihistamine? How did you accidentally eat a strawberry?” Younghoon asks, leaning against the bathroom wall. Juyeon groans.

“Long story.”

Younghoon snorts. “Does this long story happen to involve some degree of gay panicking?”

Juyeon slants his eyes at the taller boy in the mirror, grumbling, “How did you know?” This makes Younghoon chuckle as he runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

“Almost all of your long stories involve gay panicking,” he says fondly. “Seriously, I don’t know how someone as good looking as you are can be so socially uncomfortable.”

Juyeon rumbles unintelligibly in his chest, leaving the bathroom with Younghoon following leisurely behind him. He collapses onto their sofa, burying his face into one of Younghoon’s decorative cushions that he calls “ironically kitschy” as the elder sits down beside him and pats his lower back comfortingly.

“Tell hyung what’s wrong Juyeonie,” he commands affectionately. Juyeon grunts before whining petulantly, “He was just _so_ pretty hyung.”

“They all are, Juyeon-ah. They all are.”  
  


~~  
  


The next time it happens, Juyeon is slightly more prepared but not quite. Younghoon manages to convince him to start carrying his antihistamine pills around after that first time, given that he, quote, “cannot be trusted to literally refrain from _poisoning_ himself around cute boys”. Regardless of the mild humiliation that accompanies the physical struggle that ensues with Younghoon aggressively trying to shove the pills into his backpack and Juyeon running around the flat to avoid him, the elder invariably wins with his large doe eyes and pout, so Juyeon starts keeping a little pill bottle in the front pocket of his bag at all times from then on out. 

Still, it’s not like Juyeon plans on actively eating strawberries again when he visits the bingsu shop after his next trip to the gym. He’ll just firmly order mango and nothing else, he thinks as he nears the little store with the translucent glass door. Besides, what’re the chances that the cute blonde server will be there _and_ offer him another free scoop of strawberries? 

Apparently very high. When he walks into the store not four days after his last encounter with the boy who looks more like an idol than a god damn bingsu server, Juyeon is surprised to see the familiar tuft of ash-blonde hair peeking out from behind the large shaved ice machine. Upon hearing the small tinkling of the bell, the guy pops his head out, an excited _(is that wishful thinking?)_ expression blooming across his face when he sees Juyeon.

“Hey! You came back,” he exclaims, bounding out from behind the machine. It seems like things around the shop are finally set up properly — the menu is actually written in pretty calligraphy and decorated nicely with coloured chalk, the shelves have all been painted and filled, and the servers are all wearing periwinkle aprons with a cow jumping over the moon embroidered onto the chest.

“Y-yeah,” Juyeon stutter, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the blonde’s smile. “S’hot today.”

His face immediately bursts into flames. _God how I loathe you_ , he thinks to himself, eyes squeezing shut briefly out of sheer embarrassment.

The server laughs somewhat uncertainly, eyebrows turned upwards in bemused amusement. “Summer’ll do that to the temperature,” he offers kindly and Juyeon can only nod helplessly. “What can I get you today?”

Juyeon steels himself and very firmly and clearly says, “One scoop, with mango, mochi and blueberries please.” The server nods, tapping the screen in front of him.

“Name?” the server asks, and honestly Juyeon needs to get laid because he’s certain that he himself is superimposing the eager tone he hears onto the blonde’s voice.

“Juyeon,” he says, eyes drifting down to the name-tag attached to the blonde’s apron. “Jaehyun-ssi.”

The beam Juyeon gets almost makes him choke on his own spit, but then the blonde is leaning over the counter to say faux-conspiratorially, “Hyunjae. I switched the letters around when I was a kid and it kind of stuck, so no one except my professors maybe calls me Jaehyun.” Juyeon nods dumbly back, unconsciously mouthing the blonde’s name which makes the other grin.

“I’ll be right back with your order,” he says, flitting off to the bingsu machine. Juyeon smiles and ambles towards the pick-up station, enjoying the small sounds he hears clinking around the kitchen area of the shop. It’s surprisingly empty today, given that it’s a Wednesday afternoon and college students always love sweets. He’s peering at the shelf of games when Hyunjae’s voice comes floating over to him.

“You gym at the university sports centre?” he asks over the low din of the machine pushing out shaved ice.

“Yeah, just came from there which is why I’m gross and sweaty,” Juyeon says apologetically. Actually, unlike last time, he had anticipated stopping by the shop on his way home, so he had taken care to change into a clean shirt and towel dry the sweat out of his hair. He reasonably could’ve showered in the gym, but the bathrooms get pretty grungy and also he thought it would be rather pathetic to break so much from his routine just because he _hypothetically_ might see a cute boy afterwards. He’s obviously heavily regretting that now, but that’s beside the point.

“You don’t look gross,” Hyunjae says, walking over with the finished cup of dessert. “So it’s safe to assume you go to this uni then?” he asks, pushing the bingsu over to Juyeon. 

Juyeon nods and is about to respond verbally when he sees a flash of red underneath the pile of mochi and blueberries. He gapes a little, heart sinking. Hyunjae has gone and given him strawberries again, along with a second scoop of bingsu.

“Uh you didn’t have to do that…” he mumbles, gesturing to the shaved ice, but Hyunjae just waves him off airily.

“What year are you in?” he asks, leaning his chin on both hands on top of the counter. Juyeon snaps himself out of his dumbfounded gazing at the dessert, gingerly putting a blueberry in his mouth.

“I’m in my last year,” he says, chewing slowly and praying that none of the strawberry touched this particular fruit piece. “You? Do you go here?” Hyunjae nods, pleased.

“I’m getting my master’s in journalism,” he says, wiping a drop of condensation off the counter with his index finger. When he sees that Juyeon isn’t eating the dessert, he cocks his head. “It’ll melt if you don’t eat it you know?” Then, as if a thought suddenly occurred to him, he stands up straight, eyes wide with concern. “Crap, did you not like the strawberry last time?”

And this is it, this is Juyeon’s chance to gracefully back out of the situation where he has to ingest toxic substances because he’s too awkward to say no to a pretty boy, except what comes out of his mouth isn’t, “Hah, funny story, I’m actually pretty allergic to strawberries,” it’s “No no, it was great!”

There’s a pause where Hyunjae looks at Juyeon almost calculatingly, and so, with a lot of internal screaming, he determinedly scoops a full spoon of shaved ice, strawberry and mochi into his open mouth. It’s only after he’s masticated the mouthful like the cow on Hyunjae’s apron and swallowed it that Hyunjae seems appeased.

“Oh good, I’m so glad you do,” he says with a smile. “I’m actually the one who cuts them up and flavours them every morning so it’s good to hear that someone other than me likes it.”

 _Oh_. Juyeon almost laughs out loud then, cause this is really just a huge cosmic ‘fuck you’ to his digestive system, but instead of doing that, he just smiles as convincingly as he can and says reassuringly, “Yeah, they’re really good.” 

_(He’s really thankful for Kim Younghoon in that moment, because clearly Younghoon was right and he cannot be trusted around cute guys.)_

“Actually, would you mind watching this for me for just a sec? I have to run to the bathroom,” Juyeon blurts out, and although Hyunjae looks a little startled, he nods with an amused smile. Juyeon strides quickly to the private stall in the back of the shop, slinging his backpack over his shoulder to grab the pills from the front pocket. Swallowing them down feels like admitting defeat, that he really is a weak, weak man, but it is what it is, he thinks grimly to himself when he exits.

When he emerges, he sees Hyunjae chatting with the tan boy who finished taking his order last time, and Juyeon is about to go grab the dessert and slip away when Hyunjae calls out to him. “Juyeon-ssi! Meet my friend Jacob,” he says, grabbing the boy’s wrist and waving his arm spastically for him.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Juyeon bows, and Jacob does the same.

“Cobie’s boyfriend Kevin, who also works here actually, did the chalkboard so you no longer have to puzzle over my gorgeous handwriting,” Hyunjae says teasingly, slinging his arms around Jacob’s slighter frame. Juyeon laughs in spite of himself, a small flush tinging his cheeks as he remembers how embarrassed he was.

He’s about to respond in turn when the bell attached to the door rings, and a small slew of people come in, all sighing in relief at the coolness of the bingsu shop after the sweltering heat of Seoul’s summer. Jacob and Hyunjae flash him apologetic smiles, and Juyeon gives them a rueful grin back, waving goodbye as he steps out of the shop. It’s bittersweet leaving, because on the one hand, he would’ve liked to bask in the golden halo that emanates from Hyunjae’s person but on the other, at least he can carefully pick the strawberry out of the bingsu and salvage his dessert (and stomach).   
  


~~  
  


The third time Juyeon eats strawberries, he really doesn’t expect it but it’s truly not because he’s foolhardy and hasn’t learned his lesson — it’s not. Honestly, how was he supposed to know that Hyunjae seems to have a knack for poisoning him?

He’s stepping into the now rather familiar bingsu shop, the sweet scent of condensed milk and sugar distinctly comforting as they fill his nostrils. He worked out his upper body and shoulders today at the gym, so every time his arms swing as he walks, a small ache runs through him. It’s the good kind of ache though, the kind of ache that comes from working hard. On the other hand, it’s also precisely this soreness that reminds him he can’t eat bingsu twice a week just because of a cute server; their dance team has a performance coming up at the end of the semester, and Changmin will be pissed if he finds Juyeon half a beat slower than the rest of the team just because of a crush.

And that’s it isn’t it — that’s what he feels for Hyunjae. The word feels simultaneously too young and too serious at the same time (can twenty-one year olds have crushes? is it too soon to call it that when he’s met the guy twice?), yet somehow it encapsulates Juyeon’s feelings rather perfectly. They’re new, bubbling forth like a spring, cheerful and effervescent in the way water can be. It’s not serious - it’s too early for that - but there is something rather beautiful about the little warmth nestled in his heart, the brightness that curls around his ribcage when he hears the way his name sounds on Hyunjae’s lips. His feelings are both simple and complex, wonderfully captivating in the way only a crush can be.

“Juyeon!” Hyunjae calls happily, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Your usual?”

 _(How lovely it is to hear that he has a usual - that Hyunjae considers his presence somewhat fixed in this little bingsu shop - and how terribly amusing it is that his usual invariably includes something that he’s fundamentally allergic to because Hyunjae wills it as such and Juyeon doesn’t have the heart to tell him no.)_

“Just an iced Americano, Hyunjae-ssi,” Juyeon requests softly, not missing the way Hyunjae, either purposefully or carelessly, drops the honorific behind his name — _as if they’re already friends._

“Coming right up,” Hyunjae says. “No bingsu today?” he asks over the scream of the espresso machine. Juyeon shakes his head, pulling out the cash he’s started keeping at all times in his wallet just to come here. It’s another slow day today, although he supposes most college students are still hungover and asleep on Saturdays at noon.

“Can’t, have to stay fit for dance,” Juyeon says remorsefully. He’s too busy being enamoured by the way Hyunjae looks when he huffs and rolls his eyes playfully to notice another person approaching the till, and he starts a little when he sees a pale boy looking at him with bright eyes.

“Hi, want me to ring you up?” he asks, and Juyeon sees ‘Kevin’ written in pretty script on his name-tag.

“Sure,” Juyeon says affably, sliding the bills over the counter. “I really like your doodles on the chalkboard by the way,” he compliments quietly after a moment. Kevin’s eyebrows raise into a perfect arch as surprise overtakes his face.

“Oh thanks,” he says with a smile. “How did you know I did them?”

Juyeon jerks his chin towards the blonde in the back fiddling with something he can’t see. “Hyunjae-ssi told me. Your writing is way nicer than his chicken scratch was a week ago.” This makes Kevin giggle as he finishes processing Juyeon’s order and hands him the receipt.

“Are you guys talking shit?” Hyunjae’s voice cracks as he yells comically loud. Kevin casts his eyes skyward fondly, but otherwise doesn’t deign to respond.

“Here you go…?” Kevin trails off in a question.

“Juyeon,” he supplies with an agreeable smile.

Kevin’s eyebrows raise again, but this time, there’s something devious in his dark eyes. “Oh, I see. So you’re Juyeon,” he murmurs, dragging his eyes up and down Juyeon’s face. “I get it,” he says cheekily, closing the money drawer in the till with a sharp snap.

Before Juyeon can demand to know exactly what Kevin ‘gets’, Hyunjae comes back with Juyeon’s coffee and small container in hand. 

“Here you are, one iced Americano,” he announces. “Kevin, don’t you have to clean the espresso machine?” he asks without missing a beat, eyes still fixed on Juyeon.

Kevin frowns, starting to say, “Didn’t you just clean it-” but his words are cut off with a sharp yelp as he stumbles. He glares venomously at Hyunjae before muttering, “Right, cleaning.” The pale boy waves goodbye to Juyeon with a grimace before hobbling off.

Juyeon, for his part, just looks at Hyunjae with affectionate exasperation, although the blonde doesn’t rise to the bait, and merely grins innocently back. “Are you busy right now?” Hyunjae asks, leaning over the counter. It makes Juyeon jump a little when he realises how close their faces are to one another, and as such, he can barely keep himself from stumbling over his response.

“No, why?”

Hyunjae shrugs casually, looking at Juyeon from underneath his lashes. “Just wondering. I have my fifteen minute break now so…” His voice peters out meaningfully, and Juyeon sort of feels like he did when he was ten years old and his teacher called on him in class and he had no idea what the answer was.

“So…” he parrots back, blinking. Hyunjae stares at him incredulously for a second before breaking out into soft laughter.

“So do you want to hang out here for a bit?” he asks with a chuckle. Juyeon’s face goes from tan to crimson in two seconds as he realises his obtusity.

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Great!” Hyunjae chirps, lifting the counter so he can slip out from behind it. He grabs Juyeon’s coffee for him and holds the little white to-go container in his other hand, sitting down on one of the wooden seats at a two-person table. The shop is cosy, so the two chairs are remarkably close together, so close, in fact, that when Juyeon lowers himself onto the seat, their knees touch under the table. This does nothing to help the raging inferno on his face.

“Here,” Hyunjae says, pushing the coffee and the box towards Juyeon. Juyeon’s brow furrows at the box, and he looks up at Hyunjae questioningly.

“This is for me too? I didn’t-”

“Juyeon, really, haven’t we done this dance before?” Hyunjae asks teasingly. “Go on, open it,” and he looks so excited that Juyeon doesn’t have the heart to chastise him for giving him another freebie. His long fingers carefully pull the lid open and his throat closes up a little.

It’s a large cupcake with pale pink frosting, and the gesture is so sweet that Juyeon’s heart suddenly feels three times larger, but Juyeon can’t really bask in that feeling because, having lived with his allergy all his life, Juyeon knows exactly what pink usually means when it comes to desserts. 

“Is this a strawberry cupcake?” he asks, trying to keep the strangled gargle out of his voice. Hyunjae nods happily, responding, “It’s _objectively_ the best flavour.”

And what is Juyeon supposed to do with that? What is he supposed to say when the guy he has a crush on is looking at him with expectant joy, dark brown eyes sparkling beneath even darker lashes, and nose scrunched up so cutely that Juyeon wants to kiss the little freckle right on the bridge of it just because it’s there?

“It looks really good Hyunjae-ssi, you really shouldn’t have,” he says softly, affectionately, taking pleasure in the way soft rose dusts the tops of Hyunjae’s high cheekbones as he waves away Juyeon’s gratitude. “Do you mind if I run to wash my hands quickly?” 

In the bathroom, just like he did three days ago, Juyeon swallows down two of theantihistamine pills he keeps in his backpack at all times and he wonders around the dry burn of the pills going down without water whether there’s a vaccine for allergies that he can get. When he emerges and goes to sit back down, he pushes the cupcake towards the middle of the table.

“Share with me, Hyunjae-ssi,” he says with a smile. Hyunjae contemplates this for a moment, staring rather longingly at the cupcake before he nods.

“Okay but you have to call me hyung, Juyeonie,” he teases, and there’s just the slightest hint of a dimple when he smiles that Juyeon wants to press his nose into but he won’t because he’s a civilised, polite gay boy who understands consent.

Deftly, Juyeon splits the cupcake into halves, spinning the box so that the bigger half is on Hyunjae’s side. Before the blonde can protest, he takes a quick bite out of his portion, grinning even though he can feel icing smearing his top lip.

“Derfishush,” he mumbles around the morsel, and the inevitable discomfort he’s going to get from ingesting strawberries, even with the extra strength antihistamine, will be worth it for the way Hyunjae’s eyes light up at the compliment.

“Thanks,” he says shyly, take a hearty bite of his half. “I actually made them myself. I’ve been trying to cook more recently — I figure if I want to become a food journalist I actually have to know what goes into it y’know?”

Juyeon can feel how adoring his smile is, but he hardly thinks he’s to blame with how cute Hyunjae looks with bright eyes as he talks about his master’s studies.

“You never told me what you’re studying Juyeonie,” Hyunjae says before taking another bite.

Suddenly a little self-conscious, Juyeon says quietly, “Literature.” It’s silly that he gets embarrassed about sharing his major - he declared it three years ago so it’s not as if it’s a new thing he’s doing - but too many times, he’s had to defend himself to well-meaning people who scrunch their brows and say, “Really? You don’t look like the reading type,” because even if they don’t say it in so many words, what they really mean is Juyeon doesn’t look smart enough or studious enough to study literature.

“I can see that.” Hyunjae sounds like he’s pleased, as if he had made a prediction and was proven correct. “You’re _so_ the bookish type.” And Juyeon can’t help the little ‘o’ that his mouth falls into because that’s the first time anyone has said that, and it’s stupid because he shouldn’t need external validation for his own interests, but his chest fills with warmth anyway.

“Yeah?” he asks timidly, and Hyunjae nods vehemently, ash blonde hair flopping this way and that.

“Absolutely, and I should know. I studied literature in undergrad too,” he grins. “We’re kindred spirits Juyeonie.” His eyes dance with guileless warmth, and Juyeon wishes he could be like Hyunjae — frank and open, unafraid.

Hyunjae shoves the last of his cupcake into his mouth, and Juyeon can’t help the short bark of laughter that bursts from his lips because Hyunjae has managed to smear a creamy glob of icing onto his entire bottom lip, covering half his chin in pink buttercream.

“Hyung,” he chuckles, missing how Hyunjae’s eyes get soft at the husky way he breathes the honorific because he’s too focused on the pink smudge that makes Hyunjae look like he has a pastel goatee. Unthinkingly, Juyeon reaches out and swipes his thumb through the frosting gathered on that rather sinful bottom lip, and promptly pops the finger in his mouth. It’s only when the taste of creamy strawberry coats his tongue that he realises what he’s done, and he looks up to meet Hyunjae’s eyes with unadulterated horror.

“Oh fu- _Jesus I’m so_ \- god I’m sorry, I don’t know- _fuck_ ,” Juyeon chokes out, his face bursting with red that has less to do with his allergy and more to do with the suffocating humiliation he feels. He stumbles as he gets up, almost falling off the wooden chair, muttering apologies before he dashes out of the store.

Juyeon runs all the way home, and when he finally throws the door to his bedroom open, the flat thankfully unoccupied, he collapses onto the bed and wills his memory away. Of course, that’s not really how amnesia works, so when he finally pries his eyes open to blink blearily at the mirror facing his bed, he sees his still-vermilion face reflected back at him. “I abhor you,” he hisses at it, and the guy in the mirror echoes his sentiment in return.  
  


~~  
  


The next time Juyeon goes to the gym, he takes a longer route home so as to completely bypass the bingsu shop. Given that Hyunjae has done him the kindness of refraining from suing him for sexual harassment, he thinks the bare minimum he can do in return is avoid the store. Although he had only gone to the cute little dessert spot three times since moving back to campus, it feels distinctly strange leaving the gym and not seeing Hyunjae’s bright head of hair in the large window decorated with whimsical stars. Still, Juyeon thinks grimly to himself, that’s the price one has to pay when one is fucking _creep_.

A week after he mortified himself in front of the prettiest boy on campus, he’s leaving the gym with sweat dripping from his brow when he hears a familiar, loud voice.

“Juyeon-ah!” Hyunjae calls, bouncing up from the bannister he’s leaning against to approach Juyeon. Dumbfounded and a little star struck at the way Hyunjae looks illuminated by the bright afternoon sun, Juyeon can only dumbly intone, “Hyung? What’re you doing here?”

The blonde boy with his smile that makes something tighten up right in Juyeon’s sternum, between his ribs and his heart, comes strolling over, a rather sheepish smile on his face. “I hope you don’t think it’s weird, but you haven’t been coming to the store and I wanted to see you,” he says with a shy grin.

Juyeon feels like the cement is crumbling beneath him with how quickly his heart swoops. “Y-you wanted to see me? _Why?_ ” he asks incredulously. This makes Hyunjae start a little, a small frown puckering his perfect brow.

“Why?” he repeats back, nonplussed. “I like your company of course.”

“But I completely violated your space last time, which I’m really so fucking sorry about by the way, it was totally inappropriate, so I figured you wouldn’t want to see me-” Juyeon sputters, stopping short when Hyunjae let’s out a hearty laugh.

“You’re so cute Juyeonie,” he chuckles, dark eyes so large and fond when they look at Juyeon that he almost thinks Hyunjae must be talking to someone else. “You didn’t freak me out last time. I’ve been waiting all week for you to come back so I could tell you that, but you just full ghosted me like a fuckboy,” he reprimands, wagging a teasing finger in Juyeon’s face, and he can’t help but blush when Hyunjae puts it like that.

“I’m so sorry, that was so rude and impolite, I-” he rambles off another apology but Hyunjae swats his arm lightly.

“I was joking,” Hyunjae says, white teeth flashing under the sun with how wide he beams amidst teasing laughter, and the way Hyunjae always seems to say his name on purpose makes something twist deep in Juyeon’s gut. He ignores it in favour of huffing petulantly, face still on fire from trying to keep up with Hyunjae’s untamed, sharp humour. 

“Hyung,” he whines, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, thus entirely missing the way Hyunjae’s breath hitches ever so slightly at the familiar honorific. “I really am sorry for avoiding you, I just get so awkward sometimes that I want to curl in on myself,” Juyeon admits, and Hyunjae’s expression goes tender and sweet, like he’s looking at a small puppy falling over itself instead of a grown man who’s taller and broader than him confess to social ineptitude.

“Silly, hyung doesn’t mind,” Hyunjae says, nudging Juyeon’s shoulder with his own. “I like you just the way you are.”

And Juyeon is not going to read into things, because what sheer absurdity would it be that someone as bright and vivacious as Hyunjae could ever see Juyeon as anything but a friend, so he just smiles tightly and tries to keep his heart that’s trying to soar out of his chest in a strangle hold.

“Thanks hyung,” he mumbles, pulling at his earlobe - a tick that he’s never managed to quite get rid of - as he stares at the ground.

“Do you want to come to the shop? My treat,” Hyunjae asks with an inviting smile. Juyeon shakes his head, because even though he’s missed the way the sweet scent of the bingsu wafts gently with each breeze from the air conditioner, he needs to go home so that he can wrangle his emotions into check. It would be pure idiocy to let a friend like Hyunjae go over some puppy crush, and Juyeon is nothing if not determined.

“Sorry Hyunjae hyung, I have a response paper to write.” The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and he winces a little internally when he sees the light in Hyunjae’s eyes dim a little.

“Okay, go work hard,” Hyunjae says, biting the inside of his cheek. “Don’t be a stranger — I expect to see you on Thursday mister,” he quirks his eyebrow in what Juyeon assumes he thinks is a threatening manner, but it just looks adorable and a little funny in Juyeon’s longing eyes. He nods dutifully, and, before he can react, a small soft hand closes around his wrist affectionately, squeezing with the lightest of touches.

Juyeon can barely keep himself from choking on his own spit at the feeling of Hyunjae’s fingertips brushing over his wrist bone, lingering for just a moment to ghost a touch up a little higher onto his forearm before letting go. He stares at the blonde, wild-eyed, then hurriedly bows and mumbles out a barely coherent “See you,” and dashes off. If Hyunjae reacts to his abrupt departure, Juyeon is none the wiser.

When he gets home, Younghoon and Changmin are sitting on the sofa, playing with each other’s hands the way couples do that fills Juyeon with bitter envy. They take one look at his bright red face and their eyebrows raise simultaneously.

“Cute bingsu boy again, Juyeonie hyung?” Changmin asks, leaning his head against Younghoon’s shoulder. Juyeon just nods and makes an odd grunting, gurgling noise.

“It’s like every time I see him I have a full-blown stroke,” he mumbles into his hands as he slumps against the front door. “Being around him feels like bathing in celestial incandescence or something and I’m just one paltry, gay mortal.”

“He can’t be _that_ cute,” Younghoon says disbelievingly and Juyeon rips his hands away from his eyes to gawk at his roommate.

“Hyung, he looks like Walt Disney himself animated him. I’m almost convinced that birds will spontaneously fly down in the middle of our conversation to help him get dressed or something,” Juyeon groans as he approaches the sofa and flops down over his two friends’ laps.

“ _I_ look like Walt Disney himself animated me and I don’t see you freaking out when I walk around shirtless,” Younghoon sniffs irritably, although he lets out a small yelp when Changmin pinches his side.

“Your hubris continues to reach new heights hyung,” Juyeon mutters dryly into Changmin’s thigh while the younger boy pats his hair sympathetically.

“Don’t try and condescend me with your big words Lee Juyeon,” Younghoon retorts archly, flicking the back of Juyeon’s head lightly. “I’d like to see you speak this eloquently in front of your lovely crush.”

Juyeon would respond rudely but Changmin beats him to it by chomping down hard on his boyfriend’s shoulder, leaving the tall pale boy to squawk loudly.   
  


~~   
  


Of course, to no one’s surprise, least of all him, Juyeon doesn’t go back to the bingsu shop on Thursday. Even though he had assured Hyunjae that he would return, Juyeon contends to himself that it would be ridiculous to go back there when he hasn’t even started getting over his absurd little crush on sunshine personified. As he goes through the motions of the following week, he reassures himself at every interval that Hyunjae will hardly notice his lack of appearance, that when he’s finally gotten over his lovelorn obsession with a guy he barely knows he’ll allow himself to return.

He’s rather made up his mind about this, which is why it catches him so off guard the fourth and final time he ingests strawberries as an adult male fully aware of his own allergies.

It’s Sunday, exactly a week after Hyunjae had managed to corner him outside of the gym, and Juyeon goes to the sports centre extra early just in case Hyunjae is there waiting again, but when he leaves, he’s relieved to see no tuft of ash blonde hair in sight. Just as he’s heaving a sigh of relief, however, a hand grabs his elbow.

“Shit!” Juyeon gasps, jumping about a foot in the air. Younghoon is standing beside him, looking as handsome as ever under the late summer morning light, staring impassively at Juyeon as if he didn’t just scare his very soul out of his body. “Hyung what the fuck,” Juyeon groans, trying to calm his racing heart as he doubles over.

“You’re so dramatic Juyeonie,” Younghoon says rolling his eyes. “I was literally standing right beside you for thirty seconds, it’s not my fault you didn’t notice me.”

“What’re you doing here?” Juyeon demands, completely ignoring what Younghoon said. “You never work out.” To be fair, Younghoon isn’t exactly dressed to exercise anyway — he has a silky white shirt buttoned low to show off his creamy collarbones worn over artfully torn jeans and designer sneakers. 

“Please, these are show muscles; my delicate body would break under those brutish weights of yours,” Younghoon snarks, making a performance of gliding long pale fingertips up his defined arms and chest. “I’m actually here to see if you want to hang out.”

Juyeon gives him a dubious look. “Hyung we live together. If you wanted to hang out, you could’ve just waited for me to come home.”

Younghoon turns the most withering look on Juyeon, and for a second he feels a couple degrees colder before he remembers that Younghoon is his best friend and also the softest human being alive (except for maybe a particular blonde bingsu worker whom Juyeon absolutely does _not_ fantasise about all day and night). “Don’t be dense Juyeonie. Come on,” he says, looping his arm around Juyeon’s.

He walks resolutely quickly, and Juyeon has no choice but to follow those long strides with his own, eventually clasping a hand affectionately over the one clutching the crook of his arm. He lets Younghoon drag him down the campus streets with a look of fond resignation on his face until he suddenly realises what street they’re on.

“No hyung, that’s gonna be a big nope from me, absolutely not,” he says abruptly, digging his heels into the cement like a recalcitrant ox. Younghoon resolutely ignores him, and damn him for lying about his muscles being all for show because Juyeon is, to his great reluctance, actually being dragged closer and closer to the bingsu shop with every insistent tug.

“Seriously, hyung, I can’t, I haven’t gotten over him yet and I just can’t see him again,” Juyeon pleads when he spots the familiar cow shaped chalkboard sign on the street right in front of them. He’s startled when Younghoon stops short, and Juyeon almost crashes right into his roommate. Younghoon spins around and grabs his shoulders forcefully, an uncharacteristically hard glint in his normally gentle gaze.

“Juyeon-ah, we have been best friends for four years now, and I’ve waited four years to say this but I really think you need to hear it now.” The tone of his voice makes Juyeon swallow thickly, blinking uncomfortably at his best friend. “I’m so sick and tired of listening to you degrade yourself and talk about yourself like you’re this undesirable, awkward, unattractive person. Even if all of that was true, which it isn’t, you _deserve_ to be happy Juyeonie. You of all people get to find your person, do you understand me?”

The fierceness of Younghoon’s voice almost makes Juyeon choke up, and he comes alarming close when a large hand gently cups his cheek. “You have to believe me Juyeonie. You’re ridiculously wonderful and I’m so tired of seeing you let people slip away just because you don’t think you’re deserving of someone special,” Younghoon murmurs gently. Juyeon nods wordlessly, gripping the hand on his face tightly.

“Love you hyung,” he says hoarsely, and Younghoon smiles affectionately back. “Love you too,” he says as he pulls Juyeon into a hug. They stand there for a moment, and Juyeon lets himself bask for a bit in the familiar scent of Younghoon’s laundry detergent and coconut shampoo before he pulls away.

“Go get ‘em sport,” Younghoon teases in an old-time newscaster voice, which makes Juyeon laugh and shove him lightly. With a suddenly lighter heart, Juyeon pushes the door to the bingsu shop open, Younghoon trailing behind him with an inquisitive look.

For a second, Juyeon could swear that behind the frosted glass he sees a blur of blonde hair dart away, because when the door swings open properly, there Hyunjae is, an odd expression on his handsome face as he breathes heavily.

“Hyunjae hyung!” Juyeon greets, and when the blonde looks up, he’s smiling, but there’s a hazy, poignant cloud over his normally bright brown eyes. 

“Hey Juyeon,” Hyunjae greets, without the usual exuberance that Juyeon has started to associate with his voice. “What can I get you guys today?” he asks as he moves towards the counter.

Juyeon looks back at Younghoon who is inspecting the shelf of games and calls, “Hyung what do you want? My treat.” Without looking up, Younghoon responds, “You know what I like Juyeonie.”

As he nears the till, Juyeon tries to catch Hyunjae’s downcast eyes but the blonde seems fixated on a chip at the corner of the counter. “One scoop with mango and mochi and another scoop with chocolate syrup and marshmallows please,” Juyeon says, still trying to get Hyunjae to look at him. The blonde simply nods, processing the order quietly before sliding the receipt to Juyeon and flitting off to prepare their dessert. Juyeon frowns to himself as he sits down across from Younghoon who is fiddling with a pack of playing cards.

“That’s your bingsu boy? He looks like Bambi, Juyeonie,” Younghoon whispers, voice alight with affection. “No wonder you were going so crazy.”

Juyeon nods vehemently. “It makes my heart hurt how cute he is,” he says with a hint of a whine in his voice. Younghoon holds his hand comfortingly, and out of the corner of his eye, Juyeon sees Hyunjae stiffen as he dispenses the bingsu into two cups.

“Order up,” Hyunjae calls flatly, and he picks at his cuticles as he waits for Juyeon to get to the counter. His dejected mood affects Juyeon more than he’d care to admit, and the seeming lack of spark in Hyunjae’s brown eyes feels intrinsically wrong somehow.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Juyeon asks quietly, pausing before he takes the two dessert cups. Although he really had no intention of coming to the shop today, Juyeon is thankful for the little rattle he hears of his pill bottle knocking inside his backpack when he sees the telltale peek of red under the small mountain of mochi in his cup. It makes a small smile tug at the corner of his lips, and when he looks up to meet Hyunjae’s eyes, he sees a reluctant one mirrored on the boy’s own face. 

“I’m just fine Juyeonie,” Hyunjae responds gently, poignantly even. Juyeon is about to press further when he adds quickly, “Really. Get back to your...” trailing off as he gestures towards Younghoon. Juyeon fixes him with a searching look before nodding unhappily, picking the desserts up to bring them to the table that his roommate is lounging at.

“Why the long face?” Younghoon asks as he approaches, taking the cup from him and digging in with relish. Juyeon shrugs, unable to quite articulate into words the sensation of wanting someone you barely know to be happy, even though it’s not like you really know what happiness means to them, you just know how their laughter fills a room with brightness, or the way their smile sits in your rib cage long after you’ve parted ways like sticky sweet honey clinging to the crevices of your bones.

Juyeon doesn’t know how to say any of that so he just mumbles, “Dunno,” but Younghoon’s dark eyes are intelligent and knowing, darting between Juyeon’s glum expression and the equally morose look on the bingsu server’s pretty features. “Gonna go wash my hands,” Juyeon says, blinking meaningfully and Younghoon connects the dots between the glazed strawberries glistening between pillows of white and the slightly pained yet wonderstruck eyes with which Juyeon looks at them. He hums softly then, winking at the younger who blushes to the roots of his hair.

As Juyeon walks off, Younghoon sneaks a glance over at the counter. Juyeon’s bingsu boy is staring after him softly, and _wow Juyeonie is such an idiot because how can he not see how obviously enamoured Hyunjae is with him?_ Younghoon gets up and ambles leisurely to the till with his bingsu in hand, noting the way the blonde immediately freezes, the gentle look on his face replaced with something detached and professional.

“Hi! I’m Kim Younghoon. Juyeonie has told me so much about you,” Younghoon says, leaning against the counter on one arm. The blonde startles, and for a moment, he looks so much like a deer in headlights that Younghoon almost feels bad.

“O-oh hi, I’m Lee Hyunjae,” the boy murmurs back a little dejectedly.

And truly, it’s tempting to just confess Juyeon’s feelings for him, to wipe the miserable expression off of Hyunjae’s face - because of course, you’d have to be an idiot not to know why he looks so crestfallen - but today isn’t about Younghoon’s ability to confront his feelings and put himself out there, it’s about Juyeon’s. So Younghoon doesn’t say anything, just tries to convey as much sympathy as he can in a smile before moving to slip back to his table.

Unfortunately, it seems Hyunjae has other ideas. Just as Younghoon pushes off the counter, the blonde blurts out, “How long have you guys been dating?” And Younghoon, who’s getting a PhD in theatre arts and so really should be better at keeping his expressions in check, struggles to hold back a guffaw as he gazes upon the forced smile stretched across Hyunjae’s face.

“We’re not dating,” Younghoon says with a gentle smile. “We’ve been friends for so long, and besides, Juyeonie isn’t really my type.”

“What, tall dark and handsome?” Hyunjae asks incredulously, and _god_ it’s so adorable the way he looks truly baffled as to how anyone could not think Lee Juyeon is their type. Younghoon just shakes his head and pulls out his phone to illuminate the lock screen.

“I like my boys small, cute and dimpled,” he says, fondness colouring his entire tone as he shows Hyunjae the background of Changmin pressing a kiss to his face, dimples on full display and nose scrunched against Younghoon’s grinning cheeks. The uncertainty on Hyunjae’s face melts so suddenly it makes Younghoon want to chuckle, and his dark brown eyes shine as he stares at the photo longingly.

“Wow,” Hyunjae breathes. “You guys are...wow.”

Younghoon nods, pleased and flattered, and since the opportunity has presented itself, he doesn’t find it remiss to ask, “So you and Juyeonie?”

He doesn’t miss the way Hyunjae’s already soft eyes go impossibly tender, and the pink flush that seems to bloom across the apex of his cheeks like cherry blossoms in the spring. Hyunjae looks faraway when he responds, “I...don’t know yet but yeah. When he’s around, the cacophony in here,” he points at his chest, “settles. Even right after we’d first met, it was like...like I was at peace for the first time.” A brief silence stretches between them, then a tiny snicker makes Hyunjae’s eyes snap forward to meet Younghoon’s dancing with glee.

“Wha-”

“He likes using big words too, especially when it comes to you,” Younghoon teases gently, relishing in the way Hyunjae’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “One time-”

“Hyung what’re you doing?” Juyeon’s alarmed voice suddenly hisses across the small shop. He comes striding over, eyes panicked until it lands on the phone in Hyunjae’s hand. “Oh Changmin?” he asks, sounding relieved and Younghoon nods. He watches in amusement as Hyunjae slowly lowers the phone, meeting Juyeon’s eyes for the first time and Younghoon can palpably see the tenderness glowing from his gaze. 

“I’m gonna go, I have some shitty first-year papers to grade,” Younghoon announces once he gets his phone back, waving his spoon jauntily at the two boys staring moony-eyed at one another. It’s frankly a little rude how Juyeon barely acknowledges his goodbye, just throws his arm haphazardly in Younghoon’s direction as some half-assed approximation of a wave.

Before the door even closes behind Younghoon’s retreating frame, the two of them both start speaking at the same time.

“Hyung I-”

“It’s so-”

They stop simultaneously, both chuckling sheepishly, more tickled than awkward as they gaze at each other. Juyeon gestures for Hyunjae to speak first, leaning against the counter with one elbow.

“It’s so good to see you,” Hyunjae says, eyes sparkling like ebony stars. “When you didn’t come back last week and you came in today with someone who looks like Younghoon-ssi...” he trails off, seeming to turn the words over in his mouth, and Juyeon waits patiently for him to finish. “I thought maybe I’d read things wrong between us.”

And can anyone blame him if Juyeon’s heart is suddenly in his throat, chest constricted in a way it has never been before? That Hyunjae had thought there was a ‘them’ to read incorrectly at all makes Juyeon’s mouth go dry and insides impossibly gooey. He hurries to shake his head, steeling himself for the first time in a long time to be brave.

“You didn’t, I was just too much of a coward to say anything,” Juyeon says grimly, a hard set to the line of his mouth. He can see Hyunjae about to protest so he barrels on determinedly. “I’ve had a...I’ve been kind of crazy about you since the first time I came in, and instead of telling you like a normal person, I tried to bury my head in the sand because- I mean, look at us. How could anyone like you ever be interested in anyone like me? So-”

“Sorry?” Hyunjae interrupts, sounding rather hysterical. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever fucking heard,” he says, eyes blown wide with disbelief. “Have you seen yourself? You look like you were carved out of marble.”

Juyeon’s face immediately does the thing it always does in Hyunjae’s presence, which is promptly set on fire, and he ducks his head shyly away from the compliment. Small hands grab his then, pulling him away from embarrassment out of shock.

“I’ve had a gargantuan, stupid-big crush on you for weeks now,” Hyunjae says, his white teeth sparkling as he beams at Juyeon, and Juyeon can’t help the relieved laughter that flies out of his mouth then as he strokes his thumbs gently over Hyunjae’s pale hands.

“D’you want to get out of here for the afternoon?” he asks hopefully, and Hyunjae bites his lip contemplatively.

“Absolutely. Kevin should be here in a few minutes to take over so you wanna wait for me until then?” And what a ludicrous question, because how could the answer be anything but yes? Still, Juyeon nods for formality’s sake, and Hyunjae shoos him off so that he can straighten things out in time for the next shift to start.

As he spoons at his bingsu, Juyeon catches Hyunjae’s glance from across the room. He’s too busy making soft eyes at the most beautiful boy to ever come into his orbit to notice what he’s putting in his mouth, and Juyeon chokes a little when he tastes the tart strawberry on his tongue. He had taken the medicine just now so it’s not as if his body is going to immediately reject the fruit but he should also probably just tell the boy he’d very much like to date that he’s effectively been intoxicating (medically as well as romantically) Juyeon for the last month. 

His coughing makes Hyunjae chuckle, and he calls out to Juyeon teasingly, “Wrong windpipe?”

Juyeon shakes his head, and he beckons the blonde over as he clears his throat. Hyunjae wanders towards him, a curious look on his face.

“Uh, hyung, I have to tell you something,” Juyeon says with a strangled voice, the strawberry still firmly lodged somewhere between his throat and his sternum. Hyunjae frowns a little and sits, nodding for Juyeon to continue.

With his eyes squeezed shut, Juyeon says haltingly, “I’m...uh...sort of allergic to strawberries.” There’s a brief pause and when Juyeon opens his eyes, Hyunjae is looking at him with a bemused grin plastered across his face.

“Funny,” he teases. “Can I get back to work now?”

He moves to get up but Juyeon quickly grabs his wrist and shakes his head. “No, I- I’m being serious,” he says, and when Hyunjae quirks his eyebrow at him exasperatedly, Juyeon reaches into his backpack to pull out his little pill bottle of antihistamines. He pushes it towards the blonde who sits back down with a humouring expression.

Juyeon watches with bated breath as Hyunjae reads the label, his pretty face morphing from amused to horrified, silently mouthing the words printed on the side. He looks up then, face pale with dismay, and he asks in a harsh whisper, “You’re not joking?”

Forlornly, Juyeon shakes his head, and then the dam breaks. “Why did you eat all of those fucking strawberries?! You just let me fucking _poison_ you? I- what the actual- oh my _Christ_ -” Hyunjae shrieks, his pupils wide, and Juyeon is quick to grab his flailing hands.

“Hyung, hyung it’s fine!” But Hyunjae invariably prattles on, “Oh my god I’m like some sort of arthropod-Black-Widow-anthropomorphic-human who kills his suitors and you just fucking _let_ me do that except did you consider what I would do if you just dropped dead in my shop-”

In hindsight, perhaps it wasn’t the most correct way to do things, but Juyeon will stand by the fact that it really seemed like there was no other way to stem the rapid self-flagellation spilling from Hyunjae’s lips except to drag his face forward and kiss him.

For one scary second, Hyunjae’s mouth is slack against his own, and Juyeon hears sirens in the background coming to nab him for harassment, but then Hyunjae’s lips start to work deliciously against his own, sliding his tongue tentatively across Juyeon’s bottom lip as a request for access. Juyeon is helpless to say no of course, and that’s how the two of them find themselves making out in an empty bingsu shop, necks cramping a little from the angle as they kiss each other across the table when Kevin announces his presence with a very pointed cough.

“Ahem.”

They spring apart like guilty teenagers, faces flushed and mouths bitten, staring at the newcomer. The pale boy in the doorway arches an eyebrow at them, saying waspishly, “I’m guessing the cleaning is only half done then?” Hyunjae doesn’t say anything, just nods without a hint of remorse, biting his bottom lip as he slants his eyes at Juyeon.

Kevin sighs dramatically, slipping his apron over his head. “Get out.”

That’s all the two of them need to scarper, Hyunjae throwing his own apron haphazardly over the counter in his haste to get away, grabbing Juyeon’s hand as they run out of the shop.

After they burst out of the doors, the two of them exchange breathless laughter, and Juyeon revels in the feeling of Hyunjae leaning against him as he doubles over with loud cackles. When they’ve finally quietened down, Hyunjae drags Juyeon to a nearby park bench that overlooks the quaint university street and the two of them sit down, their knees touching intimately.

“So you’re really allergic to strawberries then?” Hyunjae asks, a baffled expression on his face as he looks askance at Juyeon, who nods solemnly. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

Juyeon chuckles sheepishly, face flushing a little when the elder drags Juyeon’s large hand into his lap and starts to play with his long fingers. “I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful and hopeful when you told me they were your favourite that I literally couldn’t bear to say no.”

Hyunjae snickers quietly beside him, leaning his blonde head on Juyeon’s shoulder. “You’re insane. You are actually and certifiably off your rocker Juyeonie. How’re you not dead right now?”

Juyeon grins as he leans his own head on Hyunjae’s, gently clasping their hands together while running his thumb over Hyunjae’s pretty, slender fingers. “I’m not that allergic — I don’t go into anaphylactic shock or anything. I just get welts and rashes...although I will say I don’t think antihistamine is meant to be used so I can actively go out and eat strawberries on purpose.”

Hyunjae burrows into Juyeon’s side, hiding his face in the younger’s shoulder. “God I can’t believe you ate all of those strawberries without telling me. I’m mortified.” Juyeon shakes his head and raises Hyunjae’s face so that he can look seriously into the other’s eyes.

“Honestly, if it got you to smile the way you did, I’d eat a lifetime of strawberries just to catch a glimpse.” Hyunjae’s face turns beet red when he responds tartly, “Jesus you Lit-majors are so melodramatic.” 

Still, it’s not like Juyeon can find it in himself to be embarrassed — not when Hyunjae leans in again to press creamy soft kisses to his mouth that taste like sweet summer berries and even sweeter promises of something wonderfully more.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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> 
> \- Anon


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